


Christmas Kisses

by Luthienberen



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Christmas, First Time, Fluff and Humor, Gift Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:11:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5506082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthienberen/pseuds/Luthienberen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shay and Monro discover a little Christmas magic of their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Taera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taera/gifts).



> Gift fic for [Taera](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Taera/pseuds/Taera)! Happy birthday [Taera](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Taera/pseuds/Taera)! I went for first-time at Christmas, I hope that was okay. The characters wouldn’t go up to ‘mature’ as it didn’t feel right, but I feel the next fic they’ll arrive at the proper place :) - whether that is in the modern verse or in Colonial America. x

\+ + +

 

Shay flattened himself against the wall as first Gist then Connor barrelled out from a side room. The little boy was shrieking “Sea monster! I’ll catch you!” while brandishing a toy bow and arrow. Gist roared in reply before both veered into a room and by the sound of it, thumping up the stairs.

Relaxing now the threat of being trampled was over Shay jumped as someone spoke in his ear. _So much for Assassin reflexes!_ Shay mused.

“I see Gist is exciting Connor’s spirits. I would have thought the boy was lively enough.”

The voice was smooth and despite the minor censure in the words spoken, the tone was of amusement. Feeling excitement course through his own veins Shay turned quickly to see Colonel George Monro, formally of the British Army, now Head of Operations of the Eastern Seaboard of America, in Abstergo’s research department.

Monro was dressed simply in a Christmas jumper with a picture of snow ‘falling’ on a Christmas tree with the collar a white shirt peeking through. His trousers were dark blue and neatly pressed though he wore amusingly red slipper socks with a snowman with a bobbly nose. Yet Monro was still as handsome and refined as always.

Shay struggled not to look like a fool with how wide his grin was upon seeing Monro, especially how comfortable and reassuring he appeared tonight, but he couldn’t help it. This was the man whose foresight had been so great, it had pierced through the broken man fished by Templars out of Boston harbour, to see a potential worth saving. His compassion had enabled him to act upon this peek into Shay’s soul and give an _Assassin_ a chance.

He was the man he was today due to George Monro and Shay was overwhelmed still by the mercy and kindness displayed by this great man. Gratefulness for the opportunity to redeem his very self wasn’t the only emotion Shay held for Monro – an entirely different emotion caused his palms to sweat in Monro’s presence.

Trying to be calm therefore when he spoke to Monro was difficult, yet Shay met those bright eyes and smiling expression with merriment of his own.

“Possibly, I was almost run over by both a sea monster and a sea monster hunter. I never imagined it would happen on land. Those blighters are persistent.”

Monro laughed and Shay’s stomach tightened. He wondered if he could make Monro laugh like that a lot more.

“It is a pity then that the Morrigan can’t sail on terra firma and save us,” Monro teased.

“She’s the best ship a man could have, but as much as I hate to say it, even my lady can’t breech dry land.”

Nodding Monro sighed, “In that case we best leave it to Connor to vanquish our land faring sea monster. Now that is settled, would you care for a drink? Lee has put out a decanter of excellent red wine.”

Seeing his expression Monro added, “And a fine ale as well.”

Shay smirked, “You’ve won me over Colonel. Let’s go before Hickey finishes off the good stuff. At least Gist is occupied – I might be able to scrounge two drinks at this rate!”

“Then we must be hasty Master Cormac.”

Leading the way Monro guided him through the hallway where Shay had just arrived at the Grandmaster’s house, (let in by Andrey Potemkin, bodyguard to Charles Lee), and had just put his coat into the hallway cupboard when faced with a sea monster and a little boy.

Entering the living room Shay blinked in awe. A bushy 6ft tree stood nestled in the far left corner of the room. Decorations adorned every branch with colourful sparkling lights: red, green, yellow, pink, orange and blue. All twinkled merrily between strands of tinsel and clusters of baubles and figures. A little angel was perched on top the tree.

The Christmas tree was a riot of colour and life that dazzled Shay as he blinking followed Monro to a fold-out table set up against the left wall.

“Who decorated the tree?” Shay whispered to Monro as they stopped to survey the drinks and nibbles.

Monro selected a glass and jug full of a brown liquid pouring Shay a generous amount. Shay hastily picked a crystal decanter to return the favour with a deep burgundy wine.

“Thank you Master Cormac,” said Monro taking the glass, fingers brushing.

_Damn it._ “Shay,” blurted Shay. Blushing at his outburst Shay gathered his wits to murmur, “Shay, Colonel. After all we’ve gone through you can call me Shay.”

Colonel Monro’s expression transformed to one of delight and genuine pleasure. Shay’s nerves diminished somewhat at the pure happiness directed at him.

“Thank you Shay. You may call me George if you’re comfortable.”

Monro handed him his glass of ale and was he imagining the way Monro’s fingers lingered?

Shay sipped to try and steady his nerves without gulping and choking ungracefully in front of the man he most admired.

“As for the tree,” continued Monro glancing around before leaning forward to whisper intimately into Shay’s ear. Shay swallowed as Monro’s breath tickled his skin.

“I believe it was a combination of Lee’s love for the elaborate and Connor’s childish exuberance of ‘more is better’. Master Kenway couldn’t say no to their combined forces.” Monro chuckled, his breath causing goose-bumps to rise on Shay. “Not that he’d ever admit to it naturally.”

Imagining the great man facing his son and best friend wearing pleading expressions, while endeavouring not to look as if he was giving in due to softness but rather it being a good idea, Shay nearly exploded with laughter.

Instead he bit his lip before daring to speak, “I would have paid to see Master Kenway’s horrified expression at the result. He loves a minimalistic style doesn’t he?”

Monro withdrew much to Shay’s regret. However, the Colonel nodded in the affirmative, locking his intense gaze on Shay. “Indeed, but he’ll argue it was time to try something different and not a show of affection or weakness.”

“I’m laying a bet with Hickey on what he’s brought for his son.”

Monro raised an eyebrow but shrugged, “Then you wouldn’t be the first. Shall we join the others?”

Shay glanced over to where the sofas had been rearranged to form a square in the middle which sat an oaken table. Hickey, Johnson, Pitcairn and Weeks were sitting chatting animatedly. There was still no sign of Gist and Connor. Master Kenway and Lee seemed to be elsewhere. Guards patrolled the area. Instinctively Shay switched to Eagle vision to check for intruders. He wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt Monro or his new companions.

Nothing. Relaxing Shay looked at Monro and made a decision. He was loath to lose the one-on-one attention and desired to speak privately.

Spying the garden doors, Shay asked softly, “Can we go out? I need some air.”

“Of course.”

His wish granted Shay knew he was practically bouncing as they walked past their companions, guards and the heavily laden tree. Upon stepping outside Shay was surprised to see that the small patio had been changed into a miniature gazebo of sorts. Heavy fabric draped over supports to form a small enclosure with a gauze opening that allowed one to see the garden. A heater kept the area warm. A couple chairs were set out with a small coffee table. Silver and purple tinsel decorated the area with loose baubles and a wreath.

It was cosy and very private, the setting and atmosphere Shay had ached for with Monro. Causally slipping into one seat Shay exhaled sharply as Monro pulled the other chair so they could sit facing each other but with their knees bumping.

His nerves were high but Shay saw a strange gleam in Monro’s eyes and in the curve of his smile. It encouraged Shay to try stretching his legs so he had to push them in-between Monro’s. The older man didn’t open his legs more, rather staying still so Shay’s legs were pressed between Monro’s limbs.

_Steady Shay_ , the former Assassin warned himself.

“Master Kenway must be loaded if he can do all this so short-notice,” Shay gestured to their surroundings.

“Indeed, he is a clever man who has invested wisely. Master Kenway has applied his skills to obtaining contacts both in the shipping industry – a branch you work for both officially and unofficially – and construction which enables us to build. The Grandmaster also owns a couple of food outlets.”

“Food?”

“People need to eat Shay,” Monro smiled teasingly. Shay blushed but Monro shook his head so Shay knew Monro hadn’t been chiding him. “It permits me to help the less fortunate by having so many avenues available.”

Monro’s genuine desire to help those in need had opened his eyes to the good works the Templars did. Where the Assassins brought chaos with their freedom, the Templars invested in order with their initiatives: raising homes and buildings, funding medical research and supplies, rounding off with installing men and women who would maintain this flow of prosperity.

Guilt curled through Shay, “At least you preserve and try to bring structure and purpose to people,” Shay traced the condensation on his glass, “I merely destroyed, killing without reasoning what would be the consequences.”

A hand landed on his knee squeezing tightly before settling into a firm grip. The warmth of Monro’s hand was startling though comforting. Meeting Monro’s eyes Shay shivered at the unnatural hardness.

“Do not censure yourself so Shay. You have proved yourself many times since then and more than repaid my faith in you.” The hardness ebbed away replaced by Monro’s usual gentleness, “How much you have assisted me in renovating buildings which help the community to grow; how many times have you built centres for the poor to find sustenance in? The Templar Order – **I** – couldn’t have achieved it all without you.”

Shay was breathless by the firm belief Monro held in him. The cadence of Monro’s voice flowed over him in its simple honesty and gentle sweetness that was memorising.

“Truly George?” Saying Monro’s first name was somehow so intimate Shay’s heart beat faster.

“Yes,” whispered Monro a sudden hoarseness chasing his words. As if pulled to him like a tree reaching to the sun, Monro moved forward.

Shay had only an instant ere he was gripped and tugged into Monro. Awkwardly crushed with his legs trapped under Monro’s seat, Shay held fast to Colonel George Monro as lips descended upon his own.

Lips damp from wine kissed him fiercely, so that Shay wondered if Monro was determined to teach him that _this_ was real and serious. Wishing to laugh and moan simultaneously at the thought Shay looped his arms around Monro and kissed back.

For long moments their lips chased each other. Shay tasted Monro’s weathered skin; eagerly pressing small kisses over the light stubble on his cheeks, moving to elegant cheekbones and up to chastely kiss his eyelids. Monro chuckled then gripped his chin so he could return the favour.

Shay whimpered as Monro tilted his head and gently licked Shay’s lips. “Perfect,” whispered the Colonel. Eyes shining with adoration for _Shay fucking Cormac_ , the older man left a trail all over Shay’s cheeks and forehead.

What Monro did next made Shay hiss and dig his fingers into Monro’s neck. The Colonel reverently dropped a kiss along Shay’s scar, up over his right cheek bit by bit to where it had left a mark over his right eyelid. The Father of Understanding preserve him, he hadn’t lost his vision though with Monro tenderly caressing his eyelid, it was enough to set sparks in his vision.

Shuddering Shay moaned, “George please.”

Monro laughed, his breath tickling Shay’s eye and cheek. “In good time Master Cormac, let me finally taste you properly.”

Sweetly kissing his scar as it led from his eye to partly up his forehead, Shay was sure that each kiss from Monro was an act to reclaim the past. His scar was no longer from _them_ but was washed clean by the Colonel’s love and adoration.

Shay breathed deeply to control his reactions for such devotion was alien to receive, though he had long grown used to feeling it towards Colonel George Monro. His erection ached but Shay ignored it as best he could. By shifting he could tell George was in a similar position.

It wasn’t as if Shay didn’t desire Monro – he did very much, but this was new and precious. After the last couple of years full of fear, anger and eventually the yearning for redemption this simple moment was to be treasured and not rushed into unheedingly. After so many transient encounters this embrace with Monro was meaningful. There would be plenty of time for them to move to the bedroom. Shay knew the Colonel well enough that he didn’t kiss without reason and Monro’s devotion was evident in every kiss and the lavish attention to Shay’s scar.

Monro proved his estimation correct for the older man was smiling softly, eyes bright with delight. His voice as ever was low and calm, “I would wait so we could enjoy our union in more private circumstances.”

Shay nodded, “Agreed but,” pulling away so he was once more on his seat, legs trapped between Monro’s, the assassin-now-Templar said, “first food then more kissing.”

Monro laughed and rising held out a hand which Shay gratefully accepted. Shay was unable to stop a glance at the bulge in Monro’s trousers, and felt a rush at knowing he was the cause. The Colonel sighed and adjusted his clothes so his jumper was pulled over any evidence.

“It’s a deal Master Cormac.” Then Monro turned serious, face solemn. “Are you happy with this Shay? With us? If not you may withdraw now and I shall not hold it against you. You ought to know I expect faithfulness and commitment. I offer the same.”

He’d be a fool to turn down Monro. The promise of a serious and faithful relationship was different to any Shay had experienced previously and it sounded exhilarating yet scary. However, Shay couldn’t imagine stepping away – he was no coward and he was selfish enough not to allow anyone to steal Monro from him.

Stepping forward Shay slipped his arms around Monro’s shoulders and tugged him close. Foreheads touching Shay whispered fervently, “I swear this is what I want George, conditions and all.”

Kissing those lips he already loved and desired to know better Shay added, “I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

“Hmmm…I accept the challenge Shay,” Monro kissed him back sweetly.

“Uncle Cormac! Uncle Monro!”

Startled both men broke apart to find Connor standing beside them eyes wide. His bow and arrow were loose in his hands, the sliding doors open behind him. They guards knew they were out here and so had let Connor through Shay realised.

Shay blinked as he saw properly Connor’s Christmas jumper: a kitten and dog wearing Father Christmas hats.

“Er…how was your hunting lad?” Monro raised an eyebrow while Connor grinned.

“I caught him! Uncles Hickey, Pitcairn, Johnson and Weeks are holding him captive! They said to show you two.” Connor titled his head, “Were you kissing? Why?”

Damn, seven year olds were persistent. “Um…” Shay wasn’t sure what to say. Thankfully the Colonel rescued him.

Crouching he said, “Yes we were young Master Kenway. We were kissing because we like each other very much.”

“Oh,” Connor frowned, “but you’re friends?”

Monro looked amused, “Why yes of course.”

Connor scrunched up his face clearly confused, “I didn’t know friends kissed.”

“Well, we like each other _very_ much and lo-”

However, before Monro could finish his explanation Connor suddenly beamed as if it all made sense and asked, “So why doesn’t father kiss you? Or Uncle Cormac? Or Mr Lee?”

“Oh dear,” murmured Monro glancing up at Shay. “Well…”

Yet again Connor interrupted and spinning on his heel excitedly gasped, “I’ll ask Father!”

Running off he shouted as he raced through the doors shouting, “Father! Father!”

Monro rose to his feet and put his arm around Shay who picked up their glasses.

“Any of your famous luck spare, Master Cormac? We may require it.”

“Well,” Shay winked, “as you know I make my own luck so yes.”

“Incorrigible.”

Laughing they went to their brethren already hearing the ruckus caused by a boisterous seven year old boy.


End file.
